


curved like a road through mountains

by kennedyismyhero



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-02
Updated: 2018-05-02
Packaged: 2019-04-30 10:05:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14494590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kennedyismyhero/pseuds/kennedyismyhero
Summary: Sara shows up on Ava’s doorstep on the anniversary of Laurel’s death, determined to make up for the way she left things after “The Death Totem Incident”, and finds out more about Ava’s past in the process.Warning: Mostly canon compliant, but Ava's backstory is AU.





	curved like a road through mountains

**Author's Note:**

> Post Season 3 finale, but minus the cloneAva storyline. The original idea was following the speculation about Ava’s background possibly being military (something I know a great deal about), and the early intention was for this to be a post-3x15 fic. Unfortunately I didn’t have time to get it where I wanted it until the last couple weeks, so it is now mostly canon, but sorta AU where Ava is concerned.
> 
> The title is from the Tennessee Williams quote, "“What is straight? A line can be straight, or a street, but the human heart, oh, no, it’s curved like a road through mountains.”
> 
> Big shout out to XanDany for providing the beta. :)

 

  
Every morning for a month she woke to a bed that always seemed too big and too cold, the space where Ava should’ve been clearly untouched. And every night, Sara would stare at the note left under her pillow. Each letter twisting her heart harder and urged tears to gather in the corners of her eyes. She held on to that note for longer than she’d care to admit, gazing at Ava’s shockingly elegant handwriting; the slanting loops, the hesitation marks, and the care she took to center it all on the page. She hadn’t been able to throw it away or put it in a drawer, and asking Mick to burn it or flush it out to the temporal zone seemed too drastic. She eventually gave up and put it back under her pillow where she had found it.  
  
Following the showdown with Mallus and four consecutive missions of Gary showing up when an anachronism warranted a Bureau liaison, Sara could read the unspoken declaration; the Legends had purposely transitioned back to Agent Green’s responsibility. She felt a simultaneous mixture of relief and regret. She told herself a thousand times that she had made the right decision, the selfless decision. Ava would eventually realize she was better off without her, but somehow she still couldn’t bring herself to believe that. It took two more weeks of rationalizations before Sara snapped, and caved to the desire to see Ava.  
  
Now she’s here, frozen in place just outside the door to apartment 209. Last year, the anniversary of Laurel’s death had meant finding herself a large bottle of liquor and camping out in her room with her box of photos for a week, but this year something felt different, she felt different. As the date crept up and Sara prepared herself for the onslaught of water-colored memories, both happy and sad, the heartache that had raised up within her was worse. It took her nearly the entire day to realize it was because the hole in her heart was just a little bigger than it had been in last year.  
  
She doesn’t know what she hopes to accomplish showing up on Ava’s doorstep; the irrational part of her wants forgiveness for hurting her, but knows she doesn’t deserve it. Sara knows she needs to own up to her actions, and continuing to lash out at people who care about her is the worst way to deal with her fears. Part of her also acknowledges a very real chance Ava will slam the door in her face, if she opens the door at all. If she doesn’t immediately shut it in Sara’s face, and she wouldn’t necessarily blame her, there is the very real possibility she might take the opportunity to say all the things Sara hadn’t let her say during their break-up. Maybe that’s why she came, Ava deserves the chance to speak her piece. And Sara definitely deserves to get her comeuppance.  
  
There’s dozens of reasons why this is a very bad idea, where she is second guessing her urge to throw caution to the wind, and it takes her a long moment to remember how she felt with Ava. That feeling of happiness, like a million things she’d long given up on suddenly were possible again. She sure as hell isn’t ready to give that up again without a fight. Every muscle in her body tenses in anticipation, her anxiousness making her chest feel overly tight before she forces a deep breath and finally knocks. From inside there’s the sound of footsteps, a latch being pulled back, and multiple bolts being undone. Of course Ava has like fifteen different locks on her door. She feels a wave of relief wash over her when the door swings open and she sees Ava for the first time in what feels like forever.  
  
Her breath gets caught in her throat as she immediately remembers how blissfully undone she felt the first time she kissed Ava. She remembers how her stomach had twisted in her gut the first time she realized Ava was flirting with her. Even now, from the tips of her surprisingly pink-painted toes to the disheveled half-twist her hair is tied up in, the sight of Ava in loose cut-off sweats and a form fitting tank top is enough for Sara’s hormones to sit up and beg. She doesn’t feel like she’ll ever tire of that visceral response her body has to Ava.  
  
Sara watches for the other woman’s first reaction closely, and she’s heartened when Ava’s eyes only widen in surprise. She successfully swallows a gasp when a familiar warmth gathers low in her gut as she registers that Ava isn’t wearing a bra beneath her tank top. She doesn’t know if Ava spies this revelation, but she suspects she might when she closes her mouth quickly and crosses her arms in front of her. Her face relaxes a moment later, and Sara forces herself to release the breath she didn’t realize she was holding. Her eyes rake across Sara’s body, sliding all the way down and then up again and she has to restrain the desire to shiver under Ava’s intense gaze.  
  
“You’re…here.” Her voice is low, rough and confused. Sara fights the urge to needlessly fidget nervously with all the uncertainty in Ava’s words. Confused is not a side of Ava that Sara has seen too much of, and she doesn’t know what to make of it.  
  
“I wasn’t sure if...” The sharp look from Ava dissolves the rest of her sentence. She watches her pursed lips and crossed arms tense momentarily with flared anger, before she clearly rethinks it and deflates just as quickly.  
  
“Regardless of what happened between us, you will always be welcome here, Sara.” Sara’s startled look in response causes Ava to roll her eyes. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. Just because you were an ass and broke my heart doesn’t mean I don’t still care about you.” With a commanding finality, she opens the door further and steps to the side with it. Sara instantly feels guilty for ever believing this miraculous woman’s actions could ever be predicted. She takes a measured breath and before she can overthink what comes next, she surges forward over the threshold.  
  
She immediately spies an open bottle of eighteen year-old Macallan scotch on the kitchen counter, and there’s only a table side lamp in addition to the fireplace providing just enough light to give the living room a warm glow. She ignores the way her stomach flips when Ava brushes by her on her way to sit back down on the couch. There’s a tumbler glass loosely gripped in her hand, partially filled with an amber liquid and Ava’s attention is already back onto the fire. The assumption that Sara will join Ava on the couch is clear, but her nervousness is reminiscent of the butterflies she felt the first time she realized Ava only wore her hair down for her. Instead she moves quietly along the first wall she comes to, content to slowly eye the decorations and knick-knacks that line the shelves and bookcases.  
  
Sara has been here only one other time, after another attempt at a ‘normal date’. They had gone to a movie and then walked back to Ava’s apartment. Sara can still remember the way Ava’s hand felt in hers when they walked down the sidewalk, how the other woman startled initially when she’d intertwined their fingers and then gave her a thousand-watt smile that made Sara feel like her soul was on fire.  
  
She had designs of taking Ava to bed that night, worshipping her body until the sun came up and then sleepily snuggling the morning away. But not five minutes after they had gotten in the door, Ray had called with a Level 9 anachronism and all plans had to be put on hold.  
  
“I don’t know why I came here.” It’s a lie, they both know it’s a lie, but somehow all the things she envisioned saying have found themselves stuck in her throat. If she were honest, she was prepared for anger; for Ava to open the door, see who was on the other side and close it in her face. She was she was prepared for a fight, and maybe that says more about her than their situation. The last thing she expected was to be invited inside, and the last thing she expected to feel was a spark of hope. She knows she has a lot to say, but not a damned clue how to say it.  
  
“C’mon, Sara. You clearly came here to say something.” She knows it’s late; Ava sounds exhausted, and not in any way up for Sara's special brand of avoidance.  
  
“I mean, I know why I’m here.” She deliberately avoids looking Ava in the eye. “But I don’t know where to start.”  
  
“How 'bout at the beginning?” Sara opens her mouth to respond, the words dying on her lips again, leaving her to merely shrug ineffectually. Despite not being able to describe all the motivations that led her to Ava’s door, she knows at the very least she owes her an apology, and possibly owning up to some of her many failures.  
  
“I’m…” Sara grimaces at the way her heart jumps into her throat and settles there. “I’m sorry.” Sara blinks away tears at the sight of Ava drawing her legs underneath her in response, as though she’s actively trying to keep herself as far from Sara as possible.

“Oh, c’mon! I think at the very least we owe each other the truth.” The space between them seems impassable now, hanging heavy between them. Ava’s walls are back up and stronger than ever, and Sara wants to rage at the damage she’s done to their relationship. Ava’s voice had been neutral up to this point, and Sara is quite familiar with the phases of Ava’s patience and what they look like. If the look on her face tells her nothing else, Ava is already on her last bit.

“I _am_.” Sara grits, and Ava scowls, looking like she’s about to call bullshit but stops short. “You should know,”  Sara pauses to swallow, using the time to steady herself, and speaks as honestly as she can under the circumstances. “I’m sorry for the way I treated you. For everything; the way I acted, for what I said, for making you feel like I didn’t need you.” Sara continues, looking down at her feet.

“I’ve missed you. So much.” Sara shifts from one foot to the other in an effort to lessen the nervous energy within her body. “When I woke up and realized what today was, I realized there was only one person I wanted to see.” Sara finally looks over at the couch where she can see Ava considering her words, unsure how to proceed. “Today is…” She stops herself short of actually saying it, physically unable to name today on top of everything else.  
  
“I know.” The softness to Ava’s voice nearly breaks Sara on the spot. “I know what today is.” She admits solemnly. “Before we,” Sara can fill in that blank easily enough, and there’s a long moment before Ava visibly steels herself in order to continue. “I made sure to know names and dates just in case; parents, schools, birthdays, anniversaries.”  
  
“Everything you read in my file.” Sara supplies, and it clearly catches Ava off guard.  
  
“Sara, it’s not,” She holds up a hand, forestalling whatever defense the other woman has for her actions.  
  
“I’m not stupid, you told me you read my file. But even after that, I just wanted you to know me, the _real_ me; beyond whatever bullet points were summarized by the Time Bureau.” The truth is Ava feeling the need to do her homework on Sara, committing to memory all the little details that went into a relationship might’ve been endearing, that is if they had still been together. But now it feels a little too much like the remnants of an assignment delegated to her by Director Bennet, or god forbid, Rip. This time, it is Ava who looks away.  
  
“When Mallus had…” Ava takes deep breath before starting again. “Waking up that morning with you in my arms was the happiest I’d felt in quite awhile. It was then I knew I gave you my heart long before we ever spent the night together.” Sara’s reining in tears again, closer to actually crying for the first time since Martin died. She shakes off the momentary swell of emotion, and resists the urge to bolt out of the apartment at the naked emotion she can hear in Ava’s voice. “But when I thought I might lose you that day, it felt like my heart had stopped.” Ava sounds defeated, and Sara knows she’s not helping matters by only sparing her quick glances as she speaks.  
  
Sara doesn’t leave, though. She wants it to be a point of pride that she stands there and listens to someone describe how she hurt them, but it just feels empty. She doesn’t leave because she can’t bear hurting Ava anymore. “And then having to walk away from you after all that was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I promised myself it wouldn’t break me, but it felt like we’d missed our chance. I like to think I’m a pretty strong person. But when it comes to you, I’m weak as hell.”  
  
Sara shuts down for a second, eyes closing as she evens out her breaths, desperate to find some of that strength people keep telling her she has. No explanation will make everything between them better, but she knows she owes Ava an explanation. Her heart pounds in her chest desperate to escape the mounting pressure. “It took awhile for me to accept, but I’ve come to see there are certain things I just can’t change.” Sara can’t imagine why this particular platitude is where she’s starting, but she forges on regardless. “There are times I wish I never stepped foot on that ship.” She quietly reaches the edge fireplace, taking the opportunity to lose herself in the flames. “If I would’ve never left that day with Oliver, I would’ve never ended up becoming the Black Canary. And if I had never done that, Laurel would’ve never taken over when I died. Then she...” Her breath is uneven and when she chances a glance over to the couch, Ava is looking up at her like she’d heard the trembling in Sara’s voice.  
  
“Sometimes I wish I would’ve spent more time with my family when I was younger, but it would’ve made all the times I’ve had to leave even harder.” She can feel Ava’s gaze on her as her hand picks at the corner of the mantle. “It feels like every single one of my decisions has at some point hurt someone.” Her eyes slide up to meet Ava’s, and the narrowing of her eyes tells Sara that she doesn’t appreciate the direction Sara has gone. She doesn’t say anything though, clearly deciding to wait until Sara gives her something more concrete to work with. Sara temporarily regrets that she knows her well enough to wait her out. “But if I wouldn’t have done any of those things, then I wouldn’t have eventually found my way to the Legends, helping people and fixing time.” She’s momentarily distracted by the incessant rhythm Ava’s fingers are tapping out an against the glass in her hand.  
  
“I’ve survived a near-fatal boat crashes, dozens of power-hungry men bent on world-domination, my time in the League - both times, my time as a vigilante, which I guess I didn’t necessarily survive in the strictest terms,” She laughs humorlessly. “I survived being resurrected, three apocalypses with Legends, and an additional two more with Ollie’s SuperFriends coalition,” Ava cocks her head to the side incredulously. “My point is I had pretty much given up on normal. If finding someone and ‘settling down’. I had just accepted my life might never include a real relationship.”  
  
“I spent a long time with the darkness that followed me after the boat accident. Gave my soul over to the League and ignored what I became because it was easier than admitting what I was doing. Hits are easy when you lose yourself in the details instead of admitting what you’re actually doing when you take a life.”  
  
“But that’s my point!” Ava exclaims suddenly, seemingly exasperated with coming back to square one of this argument again. “You walked away from the League, more than once! You’re not who you were all those years ago. That was then, this is now. You’ve changed. Your strength isn’t only because you’re a good fighter, Sara! You, as a person, _are_ better, if only because you recognize the work it takes to try and be a good. You’re a survivor, Sara. And I hate that you negate all the good you’ve done because of what you had to do back then.”  
  
“That’s just it, I may not be in the League of Assassins any more but a part of me will always be a killer. Even when I joined the Legends, I spent a long time as Rip’s rabid dog he’d occasionally let off the leash because he needed me to hurt or kill somebody. It’s this shadow that’ll follow me for the rest of my life. Wherever I go, it’ll be there, unwilling to let me forget the lives I’ve taken.” Sara nearly flees the apartment, but instead she keeps in feet rooted in place trying not to lose consciousness as her head and heart pound in unison.  
  
“You are so good, you’re so pure.” Her hands tremble unconsciously, and she doesn’t want to think too hard about why. “You are so good to me that I don’t want to take the chance that my shadow ruin you too.” There’s a hitch in her voice and she can feel the tears threatening to fall. From the corner of her eye she can see Ava shaking her head slowly as her brow furrows.  
  
“You’re not ruined.” There was a resonance to Ava’s voice that stops Sara’s next sentence in its tracks. Her voice is powerful, and passionate, and vehement in its denial that Sara was the monster she made herself out to be. So vehement, in fact, it causes Sara to finally look over to the couch and lock eyes with Ava. “You’re not,” Ava holds her gaze, but doesn’t move from the couch. “You’re not ruined, or damaged, or whatever other horrible things you keep thinking about yourself! I wish you would see that!”  
  
“Aves, you don’t see it,”  
  
“I see you fine. And I don’t accept that.”  
  
“We accept the love we think we deserve.” Sara quotes, humorlessly. She’s been selfish giving in to her feelings and she knows it. She’s wholly incapable of staying away from Ava, and more afraid to lose her.  
  
“A wise woman once said, ‘It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.’” She murmurs as her eyes peek out from under her lashes with a vulnerability that twists Sara’s heart. In that moment though, Sara allows herself to believe that maybe Ava is right.  
  
“We are not at all the sum total of our actions, Sara. What we’ve done, or had to do for this reason or that reason, it doesn’t define us. It doesn’t make us any less deserving of happiness. Life is _not_ that black and white.” Ava hesitates to take a shallow breath that betrays just how strongly Sara affects her.  
  
“Just because a person makes regrettable choices does not mean they can’t come back from it. It doesn’t mean they can’t do better and make amends by doing good in order to level out what they’ve put out into the world.” Ava finally breaks their eye contact, looking down at the fireplace. “If I truly thought that, I would be one of the world’s biggest hypocrites.” There’s finally a comfortable silence, and Sara decides to let Ava dictate where she wants the conversation to go. She steps closer to the fireplace, and lets Ava quietly sip her scotch.  
  
“I’m not this pinnacle of good that you think I am, Sara. Even ‘saints’ have pasts.” She finally admits, her voice painfully soft.  
  
Sara considers turning back and dissuading her of this notion. She is quite adamant that anything Ava has done could never compare to the darkness she feels within herself, but she steps closer to the white wood mantel instead. It caught her eye as she entered the apartment, running right above an ornate, just shy of ostentatious fireplace. There’s a long rectangular oil painting of a beach landscape centered above a shelf full of framed snapshots bookended by a pocket knife, a jumbled handful of dog tags, collected medals and ribbons that Sara knows enough to recognize as military awards and decorations.    
  
The first photo is a candid shot; a large, built man in a uniform undershirt and older style green fatigue pants caught mid-spin with two kids in his arms. A bright smile lights up his entire face, familiar dark blonde hair cut close with a neat part to one side. Under one of his arms is a young boy, no more than seven or eight years old, mouth wide open in the middle of a laugh. The rest of the boy’s face obscured by the man’s too large uniform hat sat askew on the his head. The man’s other arm is tightly flexed, wrapped awkwardly up towards his shoulder to hold a girl, roughly the same age as the boy, in place on top of it. Her little arms are wrapped around the man’s forehead, dark blonde hair caught aloft and shining grey-blue eyes that Sara would recognize anywhere. With a mind seemingly of its own, her hand finds the corner of the picture frame, tilting it towards her slightly as though it’s going to reveal more of whatever happened after the photo was taken.  
  
Her eye catches the next snapshot soon after that; a teenage Ava wearing a graduation robe and cords, her mom hugging her from behind with pride visible in her eyes and beaming across their smiles as they press their faces together. At this age, Ava is the spitting image of her mom compared to the radiant blend of her parents she looks like currently. There’s a distinctly driven look in her eye, the promise of a bright future with all the naiveté of youth before it’s been exposed to the horrors of the real world.  
  
The next frame holds a family photo, all four Sharpes trying to smile for the camera this time. Ava and what Sara has guessed by now is her brother are roughly around twelve, standing dutifully in front of their dad in full uniform, tan fatigues and a floppy-brimmed uniform hat. Her dad’s left hand resting on her brother’s shoulder, his right arm wrapped around her mom, and her mom’s red-rimmed eyes unmistakeable. There’s a touch of stress, or confusion in the children’s faces, as if they realize what’s happening but not quite the magnitude of the situation.  
  
Before Sara contemplates that photo any longer, she moves to the next picture. The Sharpe siblings are clearly into their teenage years now, a nighttime bonfire towers behind them. Her brother, red Solo cup in hand, is clearly going thru a floppy-haired Dawson’s Creek-phase, and leans an elbow on his sister’s shoulder now that he’s an inch or two taller than her. Ava’s head is moodily cocked towards whomever had the camera, running one hand through her hair with attitude. She’s wearing a little too much makeup, and is smoking a cigarette in a backyard somewhere, people and pine trees are blurred behind them.  
  
The fifth photo is the man from the first photo, decidedly younger now, carefully balancing a baby in his arms. She stifles a laugh at the fatigue patterned bandana wrapped around the infant’s butt as a makeshift diaper. Sara guesses they’re standing on a porch somewhere, a screened-in view of a typical neighborhood street visible behind them. The baby is examining the man’s face, looking up at him with one hand gripping the collar of his shirt while the other reaches up towards his nose. The overwhelming love he has his daughter evident on her father’s face as he smiles for the camera, mouth open as he speaks to the photographer.  
  
When Sara finally moves onto the last photo, she takes time to carefully study it, as it is noticeably the most recent of the series. The Sharpe siblings are both in Army uniforms and well into their twenties. Ava is leaning over her brother’s back with her right arm draped down his shoulder and hand reaching up towards his hair while her other hand has one finger up outstretched towards the photographer. Sara can only guess from the wide smile pulling at the corners of his mouth and the way his arms grasp her legs tight to his sides that this some sibling ribbing. His head is cocked to the side as he looks up at Ava, affection in his eyes. Her hand falls to the side of the frame as she soaks in the sight of Ava in happier times. That’s when her wrist hits something she hadn’t noticed when she was focusing on the photos. A black metal cuff sitting unceremoniously next to the last framed photo of Ava with her brother. With the low light in the living room, Sara takes a half-step closer in order to read what’s etched in the metal.  
  
SFC PATRICK SHARPE  
82ND AIRBORNE DIVISION  
OPERATION IRAQI FREEDOM  
KIA 07 APR 2015  
  
It takes all of a second for the date to resonate with Sara, and when it does she immediately feels her stomach churn. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?” She says softly, doing her best to keep the bite of information being withheld from her out of her voice. She turns to face Ava in time to see her shrug helplessly.  
  
“I don’t know, honestly. I thought about it a dozen times, but every time I opened my mouth, I just...couldn’t. Maybe I was scared, but it’s still hard for me to talk about. I kept meaning to say something, and then I’d end up telling myself it wasn’t a good time.”  
  
“I’m sorry.” It feels hollow, like the understatement of the century, but she knows firsthand there are no words that can ease the memory of losing someone. Sara’s gaze moves down, sliding to the fire as she runs her thumb over the chilled metal of the bracelet. “I’ve talked so much about Laurel I feel like everyone knows how much I carry her with me. Here you are in the same boat, and I had no idea.”  
  
“I never wanted to make it seem like a contest. Like you couldn’t share how her death affects you just because I lost my brother too. Your pain is just as valid as mine. It...” Sara chances a look over when it seems like Ava’s words have failed her, “...sucks, every day.” She finishes with a sad half-laugh.” “It’s been some years now, but I still find myself looking over like I’m gonna see his reaction to something, or thinking about what he’d say if I could text him, what his cocky smile looked like when he was trying to get a rise outta me, or the way his eyes would light up when he told stories.”  
  
Ava’s half-smile finally concedes to whatever memories are playing behind her eyes and her mouth turns down. “Even with everything that’s happened, I try to remind myself that I had thirty years with my brother. I know your time with Laurel was far more complicated.”  
  
Sara feels compelled to speak but doesn’t want to say sorry, she knows how useless words are in a situation like this.  
  
“How do you do it?” Sara says carefully, breaking the silence between them in order to stem the need to continue apologizing for not leaving Ava the opportunity to share her loss.  
  
“How do I...?”  
  
“Keep going after everything that’s…” The rest of her sentence unspoken. Sara cannot tear her eyes away despite Ava’s insistence on looking longly into her now empty glass as she gathers her thoughts.  
  
“A couple months ago my boss and most of my colleagues were murdered.” Ava, oblivious to her scrutiny, continues to gaze into her glass as though it will magically refill itself. “My mother died seven years ago from cancer. And my father and brother, well...I’m the last one left.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself for whatever she’s about to say and she looks up to meet Sara’s eyes. “Death is nothing new to me. It’s surrounded me for a while now.” There’s a distinct, poignance to this eye contact and as much as Sara wants to look away, she can’t.  
  
“It’s taken me a long time to make peace with that, but it starts with not letting myself get distracted by things I can’t change.” That she’s hearing her own words echoed back to her isn’t lost on Sara. “I take time to remember them when I can, try adhere to the lessons I feel like they taught me, acknowledge the impact they had on my life, and make the most of my life here. I carry all of them with me, every single day.” Her voice is a mixture of happy and sad, and Sara wants her to keep talking, the sound of her voice feeling as though it’s untying knots deep within Sara’s soul. “Here’s the thing though, I think I’ve figured out the lesson I needed to learn, one absolute truth from those I’ve loved; dying is easy, it’s living that’s hard.”  
  
When she sees the memory that is clearly replaying itself in Ava’s mind, she wants to say something, anything to try and alleviate it. She decides to wait, to let Ava move at her own pace and be comfortable with whatever she chooses to reveal to her. Something in the way Ava speaks has always soothed her, and never more so than now. If she’s honest with herself, Ava has always had a way of easing the burden weighing down on Sara, and she decides now that all she can do is try to return the favor.  
  
“We were on our way back from a patrol, right outside the FOB. It was just some simple low level crap, practically boring. We were halted right outside the first security gate when some fucker with two metal drums of jet fuel in his backseat drove straight into our convoy. He detonated as soon as he hit Patrick’s...” Ava takes a labored breath in order to keep her voice steady. “They said he died instantly, that his vehicle completely flipped and no one inside survived the initial impact. I never knew if they said that to spare me from imagining him suffering,” She trails off, forcing Sara to glance over at her again, but her eyes are still level with the fire.  
  
A part of Sara wants to say something, anything to comfort her or coax her in to continuing the story, but she also knows better than anyone that space is sometimes the only thing that helps. “Five people from the company died that day with him.” Ava's voice is grave, and there’s a tremor there that she can’t quite disguise. “I was in the truck behind his, just far enough away that our vehicle rolled to its side, but no one was too badly injured. When I crawled out I saw his truck up in flames and I didn’t think, I just went and helped to pull as many out as possible, praying that one was him.” Her voice wavers and Sara swears she can see the sheen of tears in her eyes. She sucks in a pained breath because she isn’t used to seeing Ava this vulnerable. “They were all dead. And then finally I found him.” Her words are quick and uncomfortable, released like a secret she’s been afraid to reveal. “He was the last, and when I remember how he looked,”  
  
“I’m so sorry, Ava.” Sara sees the haunted look in her eyes. If there was ever someone who could understand Sara’s demons, maybe not all but more than most, it was this strong, resilient woman sitting in front of her. The look in Ava’s eye is just enough for Sara to see them healing and possibly moving on, easing a fear that had taken hold of her long ago.  
  
“When he died, it felt like something inside of me was ripped away.” The more Ava says about her brother, the more color drains from her face and the light behind her eyes dims a little. “He was my little brother. I should’ve protected him. I should’ve saved him.” Sara sees her struggle to maintain her composure, before Ava looks up and locks eyes with her. “I know the struggle, Sara. Of feeling responsible, feeling helpless, wanting to use the technology we have to go back and save them.”  
  
“For a long time, I couldn’t conceive of my life without him in it. He was my best friend, my other half. We went everywhere together, did everything together, always laughing and conspiring, dreaming up what we could get into next. I was a mess for a _long_ time when I lost him. I locked up all my feelings, all my frustrations and every sadness deep down inside me. But thinking like that set me down a path I didn’t think I’d ever come back from. I spiraled down a long way before I hit the bottom.” Ava looks away to wipe ineffectually at the tears that have escaped her eyes. “He was impulse, I was reason. He was the creative one, and I was the analyzer. We were inseparable since the moment he was born. They said he brought out the worst in me, and I was the best influence on him. We were so close in every way; they called us Irish Twins because we were born ten months apart.” There’s a ruefully smile ghosting across her lips the next time she looks up at Sara. “He woulda loved you, y’know? How you lead your team, your humor, how dedicated you are, your heart, and how you’ve survived everything he way you have. I can imagine you two would be two peas in a pod.” Not sure whether she should be elated or despair, Sara holds herself very, very still as a half-forgotten conversation suddenly comes back to her.  
  
_The low light of Sara’s bedside lamp illuminates just enough to light the way to the en suite bathroom without tripping over any major furniture. She appreciates it even more now that it shines a warm glow on every inch of Ava’s glorious legs that can’t be hidden beneath the Bureau white dress shirt she’d donned in order to make the trip. Sara rolls to her side to get a better view, ignoring that the sheet falls down to her hips as she moves. Her movement stirs Ava from whatever she had been doing at the sink and as she swivels towards the bed. She immediately spots Sara’s open appreciation, causing a wide grin to envelop her face in such an easy way that it steals Sara’s breath. When she returns to the Captain’s bed, the button-down is parted down the middle, showing her haste to put it on but not to button it properly. Sara can’t stop herself from reaching out to wrap an arm around Ava’s thighs, ushering her the last inch or two towards the edge of the mattress. With one arm around her legs, fingers lightly tracing patterns on her hip, Sara’s other arm comes up to rest over her bare chest, feeling her own heart thump wildly beneath her ribs._  
  
_“You are so beautiful,” She says simply, pouring as much emotion into the compliment as she can without giving it all away. Ava blushes, smile growing wider despite her trying to contain it with a lazy hand. “I’m serious.” She’s doesn’t feel like she has ever needed someone to know something as simple as this before. Sara’s hand comes away from her chest to reach for Ava’s other hip in order to turn her slightly and she feels it under her thumb before she’s able to break her gaze from Ava’s eyes. There’s a light puckering of skin stretching a jagged path from a few inches left of below her navel to about mid-thigh. So glaringly evident that Sara’s astounded how she had missed it with how thoroughly she felt she’d explored the other woman’s body. She glances up in time to see Ava’s smile falter for a moment before Sara presses a kiss to its base._  
  
_“What’s this from?” She asks innocently, looking up again to see Ava markedly schooling her features before answering._  
  
_“Oh, you know. Old 'war wound’, nothing major.” She says it with enough humor in her voice that if she were anyone else, Sara might be inclined to take her words at face value. As it stands, whatever the truth might be, Ava simply doesn’t seem ready to share. Instead Sara decides that she will spend as much time as she can showing her how beautiful scars can be._

Sara doesn’t say anything about her memory, it doesn’t affect their conversation in the least. Just something slotting into place, more sense made in the woman before her. She simply files it away for safe keeping, content in knowing that she was getting some of story even before Ava felt comfortable revealing the rest.

“Sara, it took me a long time to feel like I could move forward. I’m not going to say that I don’t have my own fears and insecurities, but I know how I feel when I’m with you. You’ve given me purpose beyond my work with the Bureau, you’ve helped me find another way to make my life meaningful.”  
  
“Without Patrick, I didn’t feel like I could go back to the life I’d been living, but I also didn’t know how to move forward either. I kind of just drifted from place to place for a while. I had hit bottom, but hadn’t figured out how to get back up. It wasn’t good way to live. I will never know what Rip saw when he recruited me to the Bureau. I fought it every step of the way, but eventually I got back up, it was hard but in a way, it made me better. I needed that fight in order to find something I would’ve never imagined.” Ava hesitates for a moment before continuing. “Even when life is chaos, and messy, you find something to make it all worthwhile. Sometimes that means falling for a gorgeous time pirate who you once held at gunpoint.” There’s a lopsided, cheeky smile at that pronouncement.  
  
Her heart thuds heavily in her chest with Ava’s words, and for a second she fears it’ll be too much to keep her voice even as she speaks. “If I’m honest,” She knows how hard Ava is resisting rolling her eyes and barrels on. “I’m afraid. I have spent time as an assassin, a vigilante, and a…time pirate.” She is not overly fond of that description, but it seems oddly apt when measured against everything else she’s done in the last couple of years.  
  
“My life has become one crazy adventure after another; I will gladly go toe-to-toe with any villain that the Legends fight, go to a hellscape Earth and fight nazis alongside aliens and meta-humans, or combine ancient amulets in order to become a giant Beebo doll to battle an evil time demon. But in the end I’m afraid all my sacrifices, all the choices I’ve made will be in vain. That despite all I have done, it won’t be enough.”  
  
“My dad did three tours as a medic with the Rangers in the Middle East. My mom was an ER nurse, who helped start a charity to build homes for abuse victims. I spent my formative years believing my only option was to grow up to be a superhero, I know how it feels to feel like you won’t measure up!” Ava rebutts gently but assuredly, as a sad smile pulls at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s more than measuring up, I’m afraid I won’t be able to save the ones I love. That I will fail and get my entire team killed.” There is a pregnant pause where Sara has to close the door on memories of Snart, of Stein, of Rip, in order to get back to her point. “I already have so much blood on my hands, as much as I trust your strength, I am afraid you’ll get hurt just being near me.” Ava’s eyebrows furrow as she scrutinizes Sara’s words. “But above all, I’m scared that someday you’ll wake up and realize there’s someone better for you out there, and I’ll lose you.” Sara can’t stop herself from hanging her head at this admission. “And that’ll crush me.”  
  
“And you can’t lose if you don’t try.” Despite the harsh bite in her tone, Sara hears the shaky breath that betrays just how affected Ava is by everything Sara has said. In that movement, Sara allows herself to believe that maybe this might all turn out better than she’d expected.  
  
Sara doesn’t register she is moving until she’s sitting on couch with Ava’s face in her shaking hands and her thumbs brushing away the few tears that had escaped. The other woman eyes her for a moment, her breath uneven at the contact. There’s a split second where Ava stiffens, the loss that was etched across her face while she spoke of her brother is replaced by something else Sara can’t quite identify. She can feel the moment the other woman finally relaxes the full weight of her head into Sara’s hands, pulling one knee up and shifting her body around to face Sara.  
  
“When I first came back, it was a little like flipping on the lights after standing in a dark room for a long time. Everything was bright, and intense, and overwhelming. Everything I saw took awhile for me to process, everything I heard was like someone turning the volume dial almost all the way down and other times cranking it all the way up. And everything I felt... felt jagged, if that makes sense? Like, not quite not matching up to how I remember it. And when it started to align, it was like I couldn’t feel one thing without also feeling the opposite at the same time. To be honest, sometimes it’s still hard for me to sort out if what I’m feeling or it’s just the result of putting a soul back in a body in a hurry.” Sara takes a long breath, already feeling emotionally exhausted at saying everything that she had been holding back since they’d broken up.

“So, when my feelings for you started to surface, it scared me. ‘Cause there’s a clarity to them that doesn’t exist in anything else I have felt since being back.” With Ava in her arms, Sara feels like she’s come up for air after being submerged far too long. Finally, when the silence stretches on a moment longer than necessary, Ava nods clearly read to respond.

“With what we do, we don’t have the luxury of taking anything slow or feeling things in half-measures. People like you and I can’t waste time deliberating over our feelings because we never know when our time will be up. All moments have to be savored quickly, opportunities have to be seized, or there will only be regret. And I have too many regrets in my life already.” Sara feels her lips purse as she contemplates Ava’s words. “If I have the opportunity to be happy, to make someone happy, to love and be loved in return, you bet your ass I’m gonna make the most of it.” Her head leans into Sara’s palm, and Sara's heart skips a beat in response.  
  
“You can’t avoid pain. Life _is_ pain. All we have is what we decide we want for ourselves. I learned long ago to be proactive about what I want, instead of just letting life happen to me.” Her eyes bore into Sara’s as she inches forward, giving her ample time to stop the inevitable conclusion. The kiss is soft, almost chaste, and despite finding herself trying to hold back for some reason, Sara melts into it. She presses against Ava, gathering her up in her arms, one hand slipping to the back of Ava’s neck, letting her set the pace. The kiss slowly deepens until Ava pulls away, licking her lips.

“I deal in absolutes. I absolutely know that I always need to be doing something, something good. And I absolutely know that someday I will die, and for good this time. Outmaneuvered in a fight, hit by a bus walking across the street, too slow figuring out a double-cross.” Sara gathers her thoughts as she inhales, taking the opportunity to catch Ava’s eyes again to make sure her next point lands. “I also absolutely know whatever’s between us is real. I know I want to spend whatever time I have left on Earth with you.”

“We’ll deal with it all together.” She says as Sara cards her fingers thru her hair, finally eventually bringing her hands down and letting her knuckles drag softly over Ava’s collarbones.

“What?” Sara asks, her voice low like she’s not quite sure she heard correctly.

“You’ve had to deal with so much by yourself. But you’re not alone anymore.” With her words, Ava catches Sara’s hands in her own and brings them to her lap.

“Ava...” Sara locks eyes with her. The voice in the back of her head is still inviting her to give in to her doubts, whispering her fears back to her, and giving shape to the nightmares she thought she'd forgotten. Despite relishing the progress they have made, Sara feels she'll never be strong enough to quiet those particular voices.

“Stop. I can’t sit here and listen to you try to convince me that all you’ve been through stops you from deserving to be happy. Death, and suffering, and pain? Sometimes you need those experiences in order to appreciate other things like joy, and happiness, and love. Loving someone means loving all of them, the good and the bad, and you don’t give up on someone you love.” Ava freezes, seeming to realize all at once what she just admitted. But she squares her shoulders and moves one of her hands to cup the side of Sara’s face. “I’m telling you right here and right now; I’m not going anywhere. You have your team, you have your ship, and now? You have me. I love you.”

The blood pounding in Sara's ears drowns out all other noise, and she feels her heart stutter to a dead stop in her chest. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I haven’t felt like this for someone in a long time. I’ve fallen so hard, so fast.” She cradles Sara’s face in her hands and kisses her once more. “But I need you to stop pushing me away.”  
  
“I…” Sara’s mouth suddenly runs dry and it takes a hard swallow before she’s able to restart. “I want you. I want this. Us.” She eyes Ava’s lips before reaching up and covering Ava’s hands with her own. “But I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you.” The tightness in Sara’s chest is making it hard to breathe, and it feels like it takes a Herculean effort, but Sara finally looks up. “Because I love you too.”  
  
“I can’t promise I won’t think you would be safer a million miles away from me, or I won’t sometimes let my fears get the best of me, or I’ll be able to tell you what’s going on inside my head, but I want to try. I really wanna try with you. Because it’s you, and I can’t imagine being with anyone else. Is that okay?” There was warmth surrounding her body, calming her heart, and she lets Ava guide their joined hands to her chest. She dips her head a little to place a quick kiss on Sara’s knuckles before resettling them in her lap.  
  
“I only see one way of us getting through what’s to come, and that’s together. I want to be here, by your side as long as you’ll have me.”  
  
One of Ava’s hands reaches up to brush back Sara’s hair behind her ear before she kisses her again. Like she’s reaffirming all that they’ve said in this night. Ava’s hand moves again, this time sliding down from her jaw to her chest her palm flat over Sara’s heart, and she feels herself smile into the kiss. This moment feels more intimate than anything Sara has ever done. Like she’s physically pushed open the doors of her bruised and battered heart, and welcomed Ava Sharpe in. This moment steals her breath and stops her heart, and its then that it hits her; it’s worth the risk. Ava is worth the risk. She lets her head fall forward slowly, forehead coming to rest against Ava’s.  
  
And even after all this time she still can’t figure out how to keep her mouth shut around Ava, so she blurts out, “Kissing you makes me feel alive in way I haven’t felt in such a long time.” Ava’s eyelids flutter closed as she brings their lips together again, and Sara tangles fingers in her hair. Ava’s palm is soft against her cheek and her lips opening slightly against Sara.  
  
After a few minutes, she pulls back enough as she tries to catches her breath. Given opportunity, simple kisses between them have never stayed chaste for long.  
  
“I love you, too.”  
  
And later, as she falls asleep in Ava’s lap, the overwhelming warmth she feels within her chest reassures her the doors of her heart will remain open for long time to come.

 

**Author's Note:**

> [The inspiration for Ava's photos.](http://kennedyismyhero.tumblr.com/post/173461762993)   
> 


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